The Assessment of Dr Zane
by Feudor
Summary: Another one-shot, not trying to be funny this time. A visit to the doctor, and possible consequences.


The Walt Disney Company is the largest media and entertainment conglomerate in the world. In 2008, they made a total profit of nearly 9 billion USD. They have a legal department the size of a small country.

I don't.

Also, they have Kim Possible.

I don't.

But she still appears here, in this not-for-profit fan-fiction of mine. Or rather, someone else in her univers does.

Here's to hoping Disney never finds out. And hoping that you, dear reader, enjoy the results of my over-heated mind.

If you read it and like it, please feel free to comment and review. Also if you have constructive criticism to offer. Please don't flame me, though, because I'm a sensitive soul …

--==0==---

**The Assessment of Dr. Zane. **

The distinguished-looking man behind the imposing desk leaned forward and steepled his fingers.

"She's not your basic, average girl, you know," he said.

There was a snort from the visitor in the chair before the desk.

"Ya think?"

The name on the small sign beside the pen tray began with 'Dr. Martin Zane, M.D., Ph.D' and continued with a number of letters and abbreviations probably meant to intimidate the patient and prepare them for the size of the bill to come.

"My dear lady, I don't just think! That's my considered professional opinion after studying the case in depth."

"Well, if that's it, I'd rather be going."

"Please stay. I insist. Let me tell you the results in my own way, and I promise you'll be interested. Also, it is in my instructions from my clients that I inform _you_ of my findings."

The desk was made of carved and polished oak. It went perfectly with the rest of the furniture in the large room, suggesting old world tradition and wealth as well as a centuries old tradition of learning.

The visitor shrugged, not impressed.

"Well, go ahead, then. I have a few minutes to spare."

The psychiatrist consulted his notes, and cleared his throat.

"So, to begin, I have not interviewed Miss Possible herself. My evaluation is based on the material made available to me. That includes notes and records from her high school, the Wannagoo University and the Global Justice, as well as interviews with employers, teachers, friends and relatives."

The visitor made an impatient gesture.

"I do think, however, that I have been able to build a fairly comprehensive picture of the subject, and that I have been able to arrive at some conclusions of note."

"Go ahead. Surprise me!"

"Just so. Well, to begin, it is obvious that the most dominant aspect of Kimberly Ann's character is her extreme competitiveness. As one person I interviewed said, this is her essential 'Kimness'. You have no doubt noted this, too."

"Well, duh!"

"This 'Kimness' has been guiding her for her entire life. It drove her to become a straight A student, it made her captain of the cheerleading team, and it pushed her into the so called 'hero business'."

Dust motes danced in the sunlight from the high windows. The clock over the mantelpiece ticked. Slender fingers began tapping on the armrest of the leather chair facing the psychiatrist.

Slightly nervous, the doctor continued. "Well, there is also a reverse side to this attitude that may not be so apparent. This has led her to actually do less than well in a number of other areas. You are aware, I take it, of her failure in Home Economics?"

"Dude, I've tasted her cooking!"

"Yes. It is actually amazing that an otherwise intelligent person can be so helpless in the kitchen. But the thing is, she does realize that she cannot be the best at this, so she avoids it. She doesn't even enter the competition, so to say. This is a common protective strategy of the mind: When you subconsciously know that you cannot meet a challenge, you ignore it. So, she refuses to see cooking as something she should even contemplate doing. And consequently: if she doesn't even enter the race, she cannot _loose_, can she, now?"

"Wait, you mean she deliberately fossilises her pot noodles? Just to show that she doesn't give a damn about cooking?"

The psychiatrist sat straighter in his opulent leather chair and assumed a lecturing air.

"No, not quite, there's noting _deliberate_ about it. The point is, it's a _sub-conscious_ way of coping, a survival strategy if you wish, and thus all the more basic for her nature."

"Well, it would be a better survival strategy if she could actually cook something she could eat …"

The doctor nodded, somewhat confused. "Yes, to be sure. But, moving on: the shortcomings in the kitchen are fairly obvious. There is another example of this way of coping that is much more interesting and relevant."

The visitor rolled her strikingly green eyes. "Ok, I'll bite. What?"

"Well, what do young, attractive, teenage cheerleader girls talk, think and dream about?"

"I dunno, I've never been a young attractive cheerleader, thank goodness."

Dr. Zane sighed. "Well, boys, obviously. Parties, popularity, dating, romance, ergo 'boys'! Kim Possible should have been dating the most popular boy in school. The star of the football team or somebody like that. Now, did she ever even try? No, not really, as far as I can determine. She had a few brief relationships; Flagg, Mankey, someone called Eric, but nothing really worked, did it, now? So, what did she do?"

The woman with the green eyes and the long black hair began to see what this was about.

"Ah, I know. She chose the buffoon!"

"The 'buffoon'? Well, if you mean Ronald Stoppable, so, yes. Note the parallels! This, as you easily perceive, was also a way to drop out of the race. She refused to play the game and elected to date what must have been almost the least popular boy in school."

"Hey, now, I can't believe I'm really about to say this, but Ron isn't actually so bad, when you get to know him!"

"Well, yes, I agree. I have met him, you know. But that is beside the point – this was in high school, and being with Stoppable would, in that context, have been the equivalent of burning down the house making toast. The definitive way for a head cheerleader to say that she refused to bother with that part of high-school life."

"So, you are simply saying Princess is highly competitive when she can win, but cops out when she's in danger of losing?"

"Not quite. Oh, she **is** competitive when it seems worthwhile to her, and she does tend to drop out of the game when she feels it is pointless, but it may be more a statement of what she deems uninteresting than any sort of … eh … cowardice. However, what I really want to point out to you is the particular issue she gave up on, i.e. finding the significant other in her life."

"Whoa, there! I was around, remember? I had the distinct impression she really loved Ron, whacky buffoon that he was!"

"Yes, perhaps, but are you sure about that? Can you really say what it meant to her?"

The visitor shrugged again, this time looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Well, sure looked real enough to me! Not that I have any firsthand experience of true love, mind you…"

"Well, just make a note of that, for now. We will come back to what it may mean later. Now, let's leave the few things where she gave up, and focus on where she really put all her efforts. Suggestions?"

"Easy peasy! Being a hero, saving the world and fighting the 'villains'!" Air-quotes accompanied the last word.

"Yes, she did really excel at that. But was that really what she was focusing on, you think?"

The pale, almost green-hued visitor scowled. "Well, she sure seemed focused enough when she kicked **my **ass."

"Yes, but we need to find what was the real driving force for her. Psychiatry is not so much about what you do, but _why_. So, was it really all about being a hero? Did she _want_ to be seen as a hero? Did she ever seek glory? Did she talk to the press? Did she try to make herself a star in any way?"

"Not really. In fact she was usually almost shy about it all …"

"Yes, precisely. So, instead, do you really think she thought it was just up to her to save the world? That she, in particular, had to do it, and nobody else could?"

"She wasn't conceited, if that's what you're asking. She must have realised the police or the GJ would step in if she didn't…"

"Precisely. So, what drove her? I would suggest it was the fighting itself, the challenge of pitting herself against forces of nature as well as human foes, which appealed to her. Would you agree?"

"Well, yeah. She liked doing what she was doing, if that's what you mean."

"Yes, indeed. She did it because she liked the challenge and, actually, the danger. This is not unusual. I have seen this kind of mind-set before. It's what you would find among stuntmen, daredevils, people into extreme sports, and even in the armed forces to some extent."

"So Pumpkin is an adrenaline junkie, is that what you're saying?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? She doesn't seek any rewards at all, she just does what she does because she loves it. Look, how many times would you say she has fallen out of an airplane or the like without a parachute?"

"I dunno, there was this airship … A couple of times?"

"Well, according to Mr. Load and the debriefing notes at Global Justice, she has been in such a situation at least seven times. Now, the normal, the rational reaction to this would be to perhaps feel a bit uncomfortable when flying. Perhaps to develop vertigo and become afraid of heights. Actually, it wouldn't be at all strange if she were to be afflicted with severe anxiety and panic attacks after such experiences. But how does she react?"

"Well, Kimmie never backs down. She would jump out of an airplane in just her underwear any time you ask her to."

"Yes, not only that, but she actually seems to go looking for that kind of situation. She is totally addicted to the experience of taking risks. She loves being in dangerous situations. She seeks them out. And it's getting more and more extreme."

Ms Marie Sidonie Goscinny, a.k.a. Shego, pondered this information.

"So, you are saying … ?"

"I am saying that this is not a free choice she has made. She is hooked on this behaviour and can't stop. And, again looking at other people with this kind of condition, the daredevils etc: a thing they all have in common is a very short life expectancy."

"Oh! Now I begin to see why you have been asked to do this study…"

"Yes, indeed. I have been asked to evaluate her behaviour and her situation by a group of, shall we say, concerned individuals: Mr. and Mrs. Possible, Mr. Load, Mr. Stoppable, Dr. Director among others …"

"So this means that she can't be reasoned with, I take it? They would have tried that already before going to a quack."

Dr. Zane developed a small tick in the corner of his suddenly steely eyes.

"That is correct. She does not listen to her parents on this matter. She does not obey the instructions of her employer. And you no doubt know what happened with Mr. Stoppable."

"Oh. He … tried to stop her?"

"Yes. Out of concern, he played the ultimate card in any relationship. He asked her to choose between him and the things she was doing."

"Ouch! And she dumped him?"

"Well, in the end, being who and how she is, she couldn't do anything else. She couldn't stop. So, yes, she dumped him."

"Well, I didn't know that was the reason. I just saw that they split up. I actually thought it was Ron's fault; and Tara's… "

"You could get that impression, to be sure, but it wasn't, in fact, Mr. Stoppable's fault. His relationship with Tara Harper came later. Still, it was certainly a good thing for young Ronald… "

"Yes, Tara is a sweet girl, and they seem quite happy. You know, they have even invited me over for dinners and barbeques and the like?"

"I know, actually. As I said, I have talked to Mr. Stoppable, and he **is **one of the persons that have asked me to do this evaluation."

"So, let me get this straight. There is a bunch of people that are afraid that Princess will end up dead any minute now? And they have found that she doesn't listen to them when they ask her to be careful? And you have established that she can't really help herself? She just gets off on trying to almost kill herself?"

"Well, that was quite drastically put, but yes, that's about the gist of it."

"And where does this all end up?" the former villain asked. "Why are you talking to me? What can I do about this?"

"Well, let me summarise, and it should become obvious. You remember I said that Ron Stoppable probably wasn't the significant other of her life? Oh, they had a good boyfriend-girlfriend relation, but he wasn't prince charming. Right?"

Shego nodded, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Secondly, she finds meaning in her life by seeking thrills. In fact, this is what her whole existence is about. It's an obsession. She doesn't, and in fact, she can't, listen to the people around her that ask her to stop. Correct?"

"Yes…"

"So. She obviously needs something else in her life. Something that can take the place of this destructive obsession. And _someone_ that can take the place in her heart that Ronald Stoppable was not able to claim. Someone strong that she can respect. Someone that can lay down the law for her. Don't you agree?"

There was an indrawn breath and then a long silence. The dust motes continued their dance while the clock measured out the calm before the storm. The sun glinted in the crystal decanters of whisky and cognac on the sideboard that Dr. Zane suddenly very much wanted a large helping of.

Then Shego flew up from her chair and shouted.

"What the f*** are you saying? Are you sitting there behind your posh desk, playing some sort of overpaid matchmaker? Are you just jerking my chain, you pathetic little pimp?"

The psychiatrist actually kept it together, in spite of the eerie green glow that suddenly competed with the sunlight.

"Calm down, please! Please, listen to me. Please? I'm a professional psychiatrist, you know. Don't you think I took into account that you might be angry? I promise, you will want to hear this."

Shego sat down and doused her fire. "I think you can imagine what I promise _you _if I don't like what you have to say_." _

"Yes, I do understand. But I am confident in my observations and conclusions. You see, I have also made a profile on _you_!"

"Well, not really surprised, anymore. Consider me pissed. I'll just save the fireworks for later. Now, go ahead and say what you have to say before I fry you!"

"Yes. Well, to recapitulate: what do we have? A young obsessively thrill-seeking woman without an emotional anchor in her life; in fact without a meaning to her life at all. And one un-employed, pardoned ex-villain with a limited social life and a very high alcohol consumption. Let me put it to you that there may be some connection."

"Let me put it to you that you are poking your snotty nose in some really private stuff, here?"

"Well, you are still listening, aren't you? You do care, in some way. Remember, I've made an assessment of you, to."

"But, shit! What can I do? Princess doesn't want _me_! Why should she? I'm not a nice person! I don't do nice! And she _hates _me! She said so, just before trying to kill me, actually."

"Oh, come on! Don't play stupid! Kimberly Ann doesn't need _nice_! She needs strong, assertive, passionate; not nice! And what is hate? I know it's a cliché, but love and hate are closer than you might think."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Shego jumped to her feet. "Are you telling me that the Doctors P. are trying to hook their daughter up with _me_ in order to save her from herself? Are you for real? This will never work! Imagine when she finds out! And what shall I tell her? 'Hey, Pumpkin! Let's be a same-sex couple and make like bunnies, 'cause your mommy is worried about your life-style'? This is all just a recipe for humiliation and pain!"

"Well, I don't really care what you say; although you should perhaps think about expressing yourself a bit more … eh … sensitively. No, I've done my bit. I have made my assessment and I have told my clients about it. And now, I've told you. You may do as you wish."

"Damn right, I do as I wish!" Shego shook her fist in front of the doctor's face. "And I certainly don't want to go down that particular road, thank you very much!"

Dr. Zane just spread his hands in a gesture of indifference, and shrugged.

Another interlude of dust mote dancing and clock ticking. Shego straightened up, but remained standing in front of the desk.

"So," she finally said. "Just out of idle curiosity, where is she now?"

"Oh, take a wild guess!"

"Hospital, then. Am I right?"

"Go City General. Broken bones and concussion. She just made a slight miscalculation jumping a speedway bike from the roof of one skyscraper to another. For no particular reason, actually; the thief was long gone."

Shego sighed. "If this blows up in my face, I'll be back. Meanwhile, you might want to upgrade your medical insurance…"

"Oh, don't worry, Ms Goscinny. I already have unlimited cover. After all, my fees are high enough that I can afford it."

Shego, for once, had noting to say. She looked at the doctor, turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

Dr. Zane poured himself an extremely generous measure of bourbon. He toasted himself in the mirror. "Oh, I'm good!" he said out loud, thinking about the yacht he could now afford to buy. "And I even got a fee from both the Possible group and Dr. Lipsky!"

--==0==---

A.N.: Well, there you have it. You'll all have to imagine for yourselves what will happen next, because this is strictly a one-shot piece of shit.


End file.
